sorry brody


This deserves a post on it’s own. I love this goof ball.

The best thing in the morning

Movie: none

Couple: TBS x reader

Rating: Smut-ish

A/N: Oh god, I can’t believe I actually wrote this and I’m really uploading it rn. Waaaah. Okay, so. First time writing smut, since I kinda felt like it when I woke up today. English isn’t my native language, so please forgive any mistakes :3 Hope, you’ll enjoy ;)

Read on ao3 here

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taking back the crown:  for the evil gods, the selfish ones, the ones with murder in their eyes, for the angels with blood on their hands 

“Thomas what are you doing here?” you open the door, hiding your cold hands in the sleeves of your sweater, tucking a piece of your bed strewn hair behind your ear. His face is glowing, his eyes set on you as a smile spreads across his face. You hug your stomach, resting your head against the frame of the door.

“Look, I know that we haven’t spoken since the day in the park, and that you probably want to punch my in the face right now-”

“I do,” you force yourself not to laugh at the smirk that flickers across his face. You force yourself to remember. “Thomas I told you- I told you that I loved you and you walked away.”

“I know,” he holds up his hands, “I need you to understand that the closest I’ve gotten to talking to a girl before you was asking a girl on the tube which stop was next,” Thomas runs a hand through his hair shakily, “and the thought of love- well it scared the shit out of me to put it blankly. The idea of love is a beautiful thing, to find someone who knows you better than yourself, to feel a connection that deep, but love itself is daunting. All of the relationships in my life- my parents, my grandparents- have ended badly and left me caught in the middle of the side effects of love. Incurable side effects. I’ve grown up with this idea that love is the acceptance of an unavoidable, inevitable termination of a temporary high because of unmet expectations. Its like having a terminal disease and pretending you aren’t going to die. But then, then I met you and it made me question if maybe just maybe there is an exception to the destruction of love, that maybe there are some survivors. When you said you loved me, I was so afraid of what could happen, so afraid that I might get hurt by you, when in reality I was the one hurting myself because if I ever lost you, that would be the death of me.”

Thomas takes a deep breathe, stepping closer to you and brushing his fingers against your cheek. “And if love is what I was raised to believe, if it is my inevitable destruction then boy would I be honored to have my heart broken by you because - I love you.”

That Thomas Sangster accent tho
  • Newt: for a minute I though you had the chops to be a runner.
  • Me: *sighs* he says runner so nicely.
  • Newt: it's the maze, changing.
  • Me: he says maze so beautifully.
  • Newt: you supposed to be the guest of honor.
  • Me: he has such a way with words *sighs deeply* how he does that?
  • Newt: you wanna be useful? Go get us some more fertilizer.
  • Me: how someone can make the word fertilizer sounds so damn adorable and attractive?
  • Newt: we are all in this together.
  • Me: *casually breaks into signing HSM while thinking how amazing Newt sounds saying those words*
  • Newt: we can't risk losing anyone else.
  • Me: his voice is the most majestic thing to ever exist, especially when he's talking to his boyfriend and saying he can't risk losing him.
  • Newt: it's a girl.
  • Me: *dies*
  • Newt: *speaks*
  • Me: *comes back to life just to have a breakdown and die once again*
  • Wes: I might add that (Newt calling Thomas, Tommy) to the next one. It sounds great coming from Thomas Brodie-Sangster.
  • Me: *in my afterlife* Don't play with my feelings like this.
  • Newt: *on Scorch Trials* thanks, Tommy.
  • Me: *squeals*
  • Me: *dies in my afterlife then dies in my after-afterlife*

Request: Could you please write one where the reader and Newt are dating or your his girl and one of the other gladers is flirty with her and Newt gets jealous and mad and its sweet? Oh and he calls the reader ‘love’. Thank you.

Thursday nights are always when the gladers gather around outside of the homestead to party. It was a way to relieve the anxieties weighing on them. Everyone gathers around the big fire, some of the gladers playing music on makeshift instruments, others playing games with marbles and writing in the dirt, but most of them hung around Frypan’s snack table. It was the only day of the week he would make desserts.

You roll your eyes as half of the guys start one of their 'fight circles’ and start screaming at each other and pounding their chests like full on apes. As the music starts and some gladers get up to dance you glance around to try and find Newt, but he is in the middle of a marbles game with Alby. A few minutes go by and you start to get bored, about to get up and go to sleep, but someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey, want to dance?” Minho holds out his hand to you. “I don’t know about you, but I am a great dancer,” he smirks. You smile, rolling your eyes and taking his hand. He rests his hands on your waist, the two of you dancing with a few other gladers.

“You are an awful dancer,” you chuckle, giving Minho a playful hit.

“You’ve stepped on my foot five times already, I think it’s clear who is better here,” he rolls his eyes at you.

As he spins you around, your eyes find Newt, sitting against a log with his arms crossed, eyes hardened and set on you dancing. You give him a little smile, but he clenches his jaw. “I’ll be right back,” you give Minho a smile. He replies with a not so subtle 'ok babe’.

Newt looks away as you near him, refusing to look up at you. “What’s wrong Newt?”

“Why don’t you go ask Minho.” He slurs. “I’m fine.” His eyes are cold, his hands clenched at his sides. You raise your eyebrows at his angry tone, making him roll his eyes at you.

“It was harmless dancing,” you sit down in front of him, tapping his chin with your fingers so he is forced to look at you. “You know that I love you Newt,” you say softly, searching his face for an understanding.

His eyes soften at your words, a smile breaking through when you poke his cheek. “See you can’t resist me,” you stick out your tongue.

Newt laughs, pulling you over to sit on him. “No love, its you who can’t resist me.”

Your nightmares have been coming back. You try your best to hide it, to force yourself awake before your thrashing and heavy breathing wakes up any of the other gladers. You try to stop. Tonight you couldn’t, tonight the terror in your mind was taking over your uttermost being and no matter how hard you tried to force yourself free and wake yourself up you couldn’t. As the terror sets in, trapped in your nightmares, you feel someone shaking you, you feel yourself coming back into consciousness. You jolt awake, Newt hovering above you with a worried expression.

“Are you okay love?” He whispers, pulling you into his arms and rubbing your back, “you are here with me, you are safe,” he whispers to calm you.
Newt stays up with you all night, talking out your fears and helping calm your anxieties despite his full lack of sleep because he is more worried about you than his own well being. He brushes your hair out of your face, touching you so gently as if afraid to break you.

In the morning Newt refuses to admit he is exhausted, and refuses to let you apologize for keeping him up. As Newt goes out to help Alby with the crops he grips his staff to steady his tired body, nodding along to Alby’s words as his eyes start to droop. His hands slide down the staff, muscles weakening as sleep threatens him even as he is standing.

“What is with you?” Alby hits Newt on the side of his head to wake him. “Wake up you shank.”